


as long as we're alive, you're never on your own

by mochibun



Series: cause people have not been kind to me [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Assimilation, Cultural Differences, Culture building, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Gen 1.5, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Ordon Village, Tiếng Việt | Vietnamese, a discussion of how assimilation can affect a whole generation, because i'm vietnamese. hello its my self projection fic, cultural isolation, from a live write, vietnamese as ordonian substitute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibun/pseuds/mochibun
Summary: "Welcome to my Hyrule," he says, grinning. Warriors groans."Seriously? Bet they're all country bumpkins like you," and then he high fives Legend for that jab. Twilight frowns. It hurts more than he cares to admit—maybe it's because he doesn't know what he can say against that. Or maybe it's because he just doesn't know what to say, at all, because how can you say something on something you've never been involved with in the first place?Twilight has never quite figured out where he's fit in.
Relationships: Implied Ilia/Link (Legend of Zelda), Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe)
Series: cause people have not been kind to me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734361
Comments: 15
Kudos: 252





	as long as we're alive, you're never on your own

Twilight _hates_ these damn portals. The sensation of being ripped apart and crammed back together in the span of a millisecond always reminds him uncomfortably of his own experiences with magic. At least when he nearly stumbles face-first into the dirt, he's not alone. It seems like Legend also struggles with these things.

Except this time, the world they step into is all too familiar. The scent of pine needles and freedom sings, and Twilight feels his soldiers relax instinctively. This is _his_ world. _His_ home, the one he's bled and fought for.

"Welcome to my Hyrule," he says, grinning. Warriors groans.

"Seriously? Bet they're all country bumpkins like you," and then he high fives Legend for that jab. Twilight frowns. It hurts more than he cares to admit—maybe it's because he doesn't know what he can say against that. Or maybe it's because he just _doesn't know_ what to say, at all, because how can you say something on something you've never been involved with in the first place?

"Settle down, boys," Time says, dusting off imaginary dirt off his armor. It is, per usual, pristine regardless of the few dents which litter it. Twilight looks around—wait. He knows where they are.

"Ordon Village is only a few minutes from where we are," he says, and begins to walk ahead. At Wind's indignant _hey!_ Twilight laughs. "Try and keep up, then!"

Predictably, soon they're all scrambling to reach Ordon first—Twilight first, then the others. When he breaks the treeline, Twilight is immediately greeted with the most color he's seen—yellows and oranges and blues draped across house roofs, fresh picked flowers lining the baskets.

Is it a festival? Twilight frowns, deep in thought. If the time does align correctly with the portals... _oh!_ It's the festival for Ordona. Vaguely, he hears Four behind him say _what a nice village!_ and Warriors' snarky jab of _this place cleans up nice, doesn't it,_ even if it's more gentle and soft than before.

Suddenly, there's a shout—"MA, LINK'S HOME!"—and then Twilight is suddenly being assaulted by a small child. Absolutely _terrifying._ Colin scrambles up until Twilight has to hold him an arm's width away. "Link, you're _home!"_ he enthuses, and Twilight gives a smile.

"Sure am," he agrees. Somehow, Colin gains even more energy, beginning to vibrate. Again: small children are _terrifying._

"You're just in time—the Light Guardian's Festival is tomorrow! Well, the serious stuff, anyways, but today's all the games and food and Ma cooked some— _wait,"_ Colin says, narrowing his eyes. "Who's that behind ya?"

At this point, Wind is also vibrating, rocking on his feet. "Food? Games? _Twilight,_ this place is _awesome!"_ Time holds his arms up in a universal peace gesture, placating.

Colin nods decisively. "That's right—Ordon's the best place you'll ever visit."

Apparently, Wind's comment seems to be what Colin was looking for, because he stops eyeing the rest of Twilight's brothers with suspicion. "Anyways, Link, Ma and Pa and even Fado wanted to talk to ya," he says. Twilight lets him down with a huff.

"Alright, okay. I'll go talk to 'em."

"You _better!_ Oh, and you know Ma's gonna want you to show your friends around, right?"

Twilight groans. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He's not looking forward to it, or the conversation he's going to have. He loves Ordon, it's his home, but—well. After traversing Hyrule, he's not so sure about that anymore. But that's a rabbithole he can't afford to fall down, so Twilight gives a shrug and ushers their motley crew further into Ordon Village.

As it turns out, Rusl, Uli, and Fado are all talking to each other next to a house. When Uli sees him, she lights up; "Link! Where have you been, we've missed ya—by Ordona, I have some words for ya—"

Rusl laughs. "Calm down, love, don't you see the poor boy's exhausted? Save your questions for after the festival," and Uli groans, folding her arms over her chest. "And would you look at that—our young man has brought back some of his friends!"

At this, Uli lights up, like she's really seeing them all for the first time. Twilight offers a nervous smile. He doesn't want to be here, not really, not when everyone keeps on staring at him like they've got some expectation that he has to meet. "Why, he does—why don't you go show them around the festival? Fado, young man, you should go with them, leave all this stressful planning for us."

Twilight's heart _plummets._

Fado shrugs. "If you say so, Miss Uli," and trudges over to Twilight and offers a high five, which Twilight accepts. "Where are we going?"

He laughs. "About that... I don't really, uh, know?" he offers, and nearly winces when his voice rises at the end. "Y'all know me—not the, uh, smartest of the bunch."

"That's nonsense, son," Rusl says. "Go on, why don't you take the reins—show 'em what Ordon Village has ta offer! You've lived in this village almost your entire life, son, it's your home."

Maybe that's the part that gets him. Twilight doesn't know why, but suddenly, his chest feels tighter, and he has to squeeze his eyes to try and calm himself down. He feels very tiny, all of a sudden. "Um... no, I really, uh, can't." His voice sounds tiny, even to him.

Twilight feels _hot,_ flushing with embarrassment—he doesn't want to admit this, especially not in front of his brothers, whom every one of them seems _perfectly comfortable_ talking about their own homes and don't get tight-chested.

At that, Fado blinks, then gives a laugh. "Huh, Link! Never expected that from ya," he says, nudging at Twilight's arm. "Hah, you're so Hylian, you know that?" Then he gives a laugh, and Uli and Rusl join in on it, they _all_ join in on it. Twilight feels his chest tighten more, feels his ears and the corners of his eyes _burn._ This _sucks._ It's why he didn't want to do it.

Eventually, it subsides, and he can feel himself breathe a little better. "Guess I'll lead the tour, then," Fado shrugs, and then beckons them to follow him. They start walking down the paths of Ordon Village—the streets are lined with stalls, full of food and sizzling oil. Wind is salivating as they walk down the street.

"What's that called?" he asks, gesturing to one peculiar dish. Fado grins.

"That's my favorite, nice pick," he grins. "I'm sure Link can tell you what it's called."

Twilight gives an awkward laugh. "I... uh, can't."

Fado rolls his eyes. "Sure, okay. Anyways, it's called _bánh tráng nướng,_ and we eat it to celebrate this province and the riches it gives us. See how it's flat? It's to represent how Ordona made the land," Fado chats on.

Twilight doesn't... exactly pay attention to it. Normally, he would, because why _wouldn't_ he? It hurts knowing next to nothing about the place he's grown up in, nothing of the culture and customs; Ordona isn't a part of Hyrule proper but that never meant that Hyrule didn't force their customs on them.

But all he can think about is what Fado said. How he'd laughed when he did it. He probably didn't realize what it meant to Twilight, and of _course_ he couldn't have. How could he have known that _hah, you're so Hylian, Link,_ would have made him feel like this?

That's all they ever tell him. _Hah, you're so Hylian, Link, don't you know that?_ Or maybe if they're feeling generous, _Hah, you're so_ weird, _Link, you're so Ordonian it's_ obvious, _don't you know that?_ He's too Hylian, too Ordonian to be either, and now he isn't even sure if he can say that ever since meeting Midna.

What does everyone want from him—what do they want him to be?

Fado takes them down the streets, and each time, he asks Twilight if he knows what this is. Each time, Twilight has to admit that he doesn't, and Fado blinks like he's _surprised_ about this. Absently, Twilight has to wonder if it's because he's been so good at pretending like he knows what he is when he really, really doesn't.

But maybe what hurts the most is when they finally come across the one stall that he does know what the food they're selling is called. Ilia smiles from behind the cart, "Hey, Link, Fado! Would you guys want some of this?"

"Sure—ah, Link, you know what this is called?"

He does. This dish is his favorite food, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Warriors cuts him off. "I bet he doesn't," he teases, "considering everything else. Wow, Twilight," he says, nudging Twilight's arm, and he feels his chest get tight. "Can't speak your own language, huh? With that big brain of yours? Guess there's no hope for the rest of us," and everyone _laughs._

His breath hitches. But he _does_ know, but—but no one seems to _listen,_ and—

Shame rises up his throat, and then suddenly, Twilight's _crying._

Someone murmurs, "Oh shit—uh, Twi, didn't mean that," but he can't _do_ this. Twilight rubs at his eyes and desperately tries to stop, tries to stop feeling _dumb_ and _out of place._ He _belongs here._

It's getting harder to believe that.

Ilia, who's serving ladle had been ready to serve them some food, lowers her arm. "Oh, Link," she says with pity. He doesn't _want_ it. Twilight doesn't _want_ her pity, and he doesn't want _anyone's_ pity, and he doesn't want their _judgement—_

He turns on his heel and flees.

He thinks Warriors shouts, "Wait, Twilight, I'm sorry—" but Twilight is running by then. He hears someone chasing after him, but what they don't know is the hours Twilight spent exploring this village, frantic to learn about anything he could about his home. He loses his pursuers, and then he trips, skidding onto the floor.

He doesn't get up. _Pathetic,_ something tells him, and Twilight just puts his head in his hands and cries for all it's worth. Ordona, he's so embarrassed. They all know, now, know he's just some dumb pretender who doesn't actually belong anywhere. He cried in front of _Ilia_ and _Fado_ and his _brothers._ They're never going to let that go.

It just—sucks. Maybe it was unreasonable, because it's so obvious that every other Link seems to know where they fit, what and who is their home. Not Twilight, _never_ Twilight, because it's always slipped out of his grasp before he could say anything else. Ordon, Midna, his _own fucking parents—_

"Oh, Twilight," someone says. Twilight can't find the strength to even move away. He just wants to be _alone._

There's someone close to him, but they don't touch him—good, Twilight isn't sure what he would have done if they did. "Twilight," they say, and it sounds vaguely like Wild. Of course it's Wild. "Twilight, you have to breathe."

He's breathing _perfectly fine,_ what does Wild _mean,_ but it's too hiccupy and wheezy and it just hurts his chest more. "Leave me _alone,"_ he gasps out. Wild makes this frustrated noise in the back of his throat. He's frustrated with Twilight, of course he would be, why _wouldn't_ he be?

"Twilight, just breathe with me—in, one, two, three, four—yes, like that—"

Somehow, improbably, his breathing begins to get deeper, until it feels like he's actually got air in his lungs. It doesn't stop his crying, but it's enough to take him away from the edge. "Why—why did you come after me," he says, a little hiccupy.

He wonders how disappointed Time would be if he saw him like this, the only legacy he's got.

Wild softens. "Because what happened was unfair. Warriors and Legend were being mean, and the rest of us let it happen, but we should have known better."

Twilight gasps out, "No, you couldn't have—I—no, this is dumb, I'm being dumb, I'm sorry, I just—I shouldn't be crying over this, it's so _dumb_ and I'm so _stupid._ Who even gets upset about not knowing their home? You guys couldn't have known better, y'all know where you fit in, it's _okay,_ I don't mind—"

"What are you _saying?"_

It's Hyrule.

Hyrule, who stands furious, shaking with exertion and, strangely enough, tears in his eyes at the entrance of the alleyway. "What do you _mean_ we couldn't have known better? That _we know where we fit in?_ Twilight, what the _hell,"_ Hyrule says.

Wild winces. "'Rule, I don't think—"

Hyrule shakes his head. "No, he needs to know this. Twilight, what are you _on?"_ Hyrule stalks toward them, and then suddenly just—drops, knees splashing in the muck. "It's not _dumb."_

Twilight swallows. "W—what do you mean?"

Hyrule doesn't soften. There is something furious, in his eyes, fire bright and furious. They've always wondered how kindhearted Hyrule was Legend's best friend, but now, things are suddenly beginning to make sense. "Twilight," he says, gently, because there's a difference between being soft and being gentle, "do you know the world I live in?"

Twilight nods, slowly. They all do—it's _horrifying,_ where the earth itself bleeds and the people and monsters tear themselves apart. But at least Hyrule seems like he _fits in._

"Maybe I do," Hyrule says, quietly. Twilight suddenly realizes he said that out loud, and Hyrule looks to the side, quiet. When he speaks, he sounds like he's longing for something. "Twilight, I'm not blind. I know I live in a wasteland. Every one of your Hyrules has shown me that," he laughs.

Twilight flinches. He knows he has problems, but they don't compare to Hyrule's. "I'm sorry," he says, "I—my problems seem pretty dumb, I know—"

"You're not letting me finish," Hyrule interrupts.

"Twilight, I live in a wasteland. I grew up in the streets. I— _Hylia,"_ he says, frustrated, like he's trying to find the right words. "Twilight, I don't know the first thing about being Hylian. I don't know what I'm supposed to do when it's a holiday. I don't know if I'm supposed to be wearing any traditional _whatevers,_ I don't even have anything to _perform_ them," Hyrule rambles, and tears are rolling down his face.

"Twilight—I don't have a _culture._ I don't have—I'm fighting against the complete eradication of my land and the people and—I _know_ what you feel like, a lot more than you think. I promise you.

"So tell me," he says. Hyrule's crying, Twilight realizes with horror, "tell _us,_ you don't think I don't know what you feel like? That _Wild_ doesn't know what you feel like?"

Wild steps back in. "Twilight," he says, "we're here for you, and we want to know. So please, _trust us."_

That's the breaking point, and Twilight is crying harder, but strangely as he does so he feels... calmer. "It _hurts,"_ he says. "I don't know where to go or where I'm supposed to even—I don't know what to _do,_ and people ask me like and they have _expectations_ and—I can't disappoint them. I can't," he repeats. He has to rub his nose, because there's snot and tears and it should feel gross and awful to cry in front of his friends. 

It feels like freedom.

"And—I don't know where I'm supposed to go, where I'm supposed to fit, and they need me and I just—how am I supposed to deal with this problem? I just—it sounds a little silly—"

"It's _not,"_ Hyrule says. "Twilight, it's not, but—denying it isn't going to make it better. When you have a problem, you come _home_ —you don't go off and make it worse on your own."

Wild continues, soft, and his hands are tugging Twilight's wolf pelt off him to presumably clean it off of the snot. "Twilight," he says, calmly, "as long as we're alive, you're never on your own when you deal with these things."

After Wild says that, they sit in a thick silence, save for Twilight's sniffling and Hyrule beginning to hum some song that he knows Legend's sang before. Finally, Twilight manages to get out the truth that's been stuck in his throat.

"Everytime I try to learn," he confesses, "It just never seems to stick with me. I tried learning Ordonian, but it didn't stick, and I—I don't think I'll be able to get over this disconnect, no matter how many times I've tried."

A strange calm settles over him, when he says that. Because when Hyrule wipes his own tears and nods, rising to his feet to offer Twilight a hand to get up; when Wild shoulders Twilight's wolf pelt, he knows that he's not alone in this. And that realization is powerful.

He's not alone, and he's never been alone. The three of them exit the alleyway and step into the light, and Twilight guides Hyrule and Wild back to where Ilia's food stand was.

When they come back, Wind, who's had his hands cupped around his mouth shouting, "TWILIGHT, WE'RE SORRY, COME BACK PLEASE," gives a cheer. "TWI!" he says, running up to him. Then he frowns. "Woah, you had a crying session, didn't you."

Somehow, Twilight doesn't mind that Wind knows he's been crying. "Sure did," he says, cry. Then he frowns. Wow does he sound congested. "But I'm back, that's for sure."

Warriors is the next after Wind. "Twilight, I'm so, so sorry," he says, "I didn't mean to push and—ugh," he groans, running a hand down his face. "I should have known better."

"Me too," Legend puts in. Twilight shrugs.

"It's okay," he says, because they didn't know, but now they do. That's enough for him.

After that whole ordeal, understandably, no one has the appetite for touring Ordon anymore. Fado offers a quiet apology and so do some of the other heroes, and for the rest of the day, they sit and lounge around Twilight's treehouse. It's a struggle to cram all of them in there, but Twilight doesn't mind.

When night falls, Twilight is sitting by the ladder when, of all people, Time joins him. They stare over Ordon Village dressed in the colors of the Light Spirit Festival. 

"Hyrule and Wild told me," Time suddenly says. Twilight pales, because—well, a conversation isn't enough to magically convince someone that everything is better.

"It's a little stupid, I know," Twilight says. "You must not be very impressed with me—"

"What gave you that impression?" Time frowns. "I haven't told you all that much of my own adventures, but you of all people should know I grew up with the Kokiri." He closes his eye in remembrance, and then opens it again. "But I wasn't a part of the Kokiri, and as it turned out, I wasn't Hylian enough for Hyrule either."

That tugs on Twilight's heartstrings. "Time," he says, but Time suddenly _laughs._ It's enough to stop Twilight in his tracks.

"No, it's okay," he chuckles, "they're right. I'm not Hylian because, at least, some part of me is Kokiri, but I'm not Kokiri because I'm still Hylian."

Twilight frowns. He doesn't exactly understand what Time means by that. "What do you mean?"

Time shifts so he's leaning back, looking up at the night sky. The stars glitter like diamonds, and he sighs. "I mean that I'm Hylian, and I'm Kokiri."

"I don't get it."

Time says, gently, "That's okay. It's taken me my entire life, and I still struggle sometimes. I don't expect you to get it instantly. But... it's okay to not know who you are, Twilight."

"How'd you get to that?"

Time laughs. "A lot of hating myself. Malon screwed me straight, that's for sure. All my years and I still struggle to come to terms with something as simple as this," he says. Something in Time crumples.

But, "Just because it's simple doesn't mean it's easy," Twilight says, soft, and the corners of Time's lips curl upward.

"You're right," he concludes, "it's a good thing you and Malon are smart enough to knock some sense into me." He laughs. It's a wondrous thing, boyish and free. "But, really... It's taken me some time to come to this conclusion, but in the end, it's just that—" he shrugs. "Well, I'm not exactly Hylian, and I'm not exactly Kokiri, but I'm enough of both of them to be proud of the person I'm trying to become."

He doesn't exactly get why, but Twilight begins to cry again. And then Time opens his arms, gingerly, like he's unsure of what he's doing, but hugs him anyway. It feels like warmth and safety, and they sit there like that for a long time, until it gets late.

Time groans and pops his joints—"I'm going to head to bed"—and then it's just Twilight, sitting there and watching the stars. One by one, the village falls asleep, tired and tuckered out. Honestly, Twilight is surprised he's still up—exhaustion has settled in his bones, especially after crying so much.

"Link!"

Twilight startles; Ilia is at the base of the ladder, holding a platter that's got food on it. With a jolt, Twilight realizes that it's the food she was serving earlier today. "Link, can I come up?"

"Sure," he says, and Ilia hefts herself up the ladder until she's sitting at the ledge next to it. Next to _Twilight._

She offers the platter to him. "Want some—"

 _"—Banh khot?"_ Twilight interrupts, and then flushes. Ilia blinks, surprised, before she laughs in delight.

"Yes, _banh khot!"_ she says. "That's what it is in Ordonian.”

Twilight looks at the _banh khot._ He's pretty sure it's—

"—I think this is called a crunchy pancake in Hylian Common," he frowns. Suddenly, Ilia is laughing. (Is she laughing at him?) He flushes, embarrassed—

"—your Common’s got an Ordonian accent, you know that? It's so cute and unique, haha! It reminds me just of you," Ilia giggles.

Twilight sniffles, brushes away the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Thank you, Ilia," he says, and Ilia gives a small smile. Picks up a piece, smearing the sauce on her fingers, and toasts it to Twilight's own and then pops it in her mouth.

He laughs. He's tired—that's what crying does—but he feels better, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He's still struggling. Twilight knows it'll be a long time before he gets over these issues, before he'll be able to say, _I know who I am, and it's not exactly this and it's not exactly that, but it's_ me. When that day comes, he knows he can't wait.

There's a pride, burning in his chest; for now it’s small and light. Easily tucked away by his fingers. But it'll grow—for himself, for his family, for the friends he's made along the way. And yeah, Twilight doesn't exactly know who he is. But when he does, he'll be proud to call himself that. That's all that really matters.

When he bites into his _banh khot,_ it tastes like freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> This was sparked with being informed this tidbit of knowledge that Ordon is an annex of Hyrule, which means it, technically, isn't quite a part of Hyrule proper. However, it seems like a lot of elements of Hylian culture's been forced onto the Ordona region...
> 
> As the child of immigrants and raised mostly as American as opposed to my ethnic heritage, I've always remained pretty disconnected from my heritage; as a result, I've struggled a lot in terms of figuring out my identity. The conclusions that the characters have come to in this fic comes of a result of a lot of struggling and crying on my part, a lot of research, and a lot of other factors that I still aren't satisfied with. I don't think I ever will be satisfied or completely content, but as Time concludes, it doesn't matter my ethnicity or how I was raised. I'm still a person worth being proud of.
> 
> Since this fic discusses the impact of assimilation and other topics that are pretty confusing, I feel as if it would be pretty irresponsible of me to end this fic without leaving some resources that can clarify and add some weight to this discussion. I've linked three resources down below (unfortunately pretty Americanized), but if you need more, feel free to reach out to me on Discord and I'd be actually delighted to provide some resources (I really like discussing stuff like this, because it's really interesting to see differing POVs).
> 
> https://oac.cdlib.org/view?docId=hb5x0nb45r&brand=oac4&doc.view=entire_text is a study in the Vietnamese 1.5 generation and the cultural disconnect experienced because of assimilation! It's long, but a worthwhile read (you can always use ctrl+f or cmd+f depending on you being a microsoft/mac user).
> 
> https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/01/magazine/what-does-it-take-to-assimilate-in-america.html is a great article which details what exactly assimilation is and how communities in general are affected by it!
> 
> https://time.com/4626002/multiculturalism-assimilation-immigrants/ is an article on the benefits of assimilation beyond security, because it's irresponsible of me to only give you one side of the topic; it's definitely worth looking at as well to see why assimilation can be good as well as bad.


End file.
